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Showing posts from December, 2014

Melancholy, the Flame to My Moth

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A while back, I read a blog post on divorce by Anna Spargo-Ryan.

Raw. Powerful. Relentless. That's how I would describe her writing. It has such feels. I saw the silhouettes. I heard the shouts, as well as the sighs. Most of all, I felt the sad.

It’s easy to pound on the table but hard to whisper heaviness. Most writers rely on the meaning of their words to create atmosphere. Anna also sets the mood through the cadence of her words. It sprints, halts, then barrels forward again.

You can’t really teach that stuff. Haruki Murakami's novel Norwegian Wood is a story of quiet but deep hurt. He once said, "No matter how much enthusiasm and effort you put into writing, if you totally lack literary talent you can forget about being a novelist." Well, Anna certainly need not worry about the talent part.

Her writing reminds me of a manuscript I betaed a while back. It was a coming-of-age story. A young dad, trying to tell his daughter complicated …